


Hilt IV

by chains_archivist



Series: Hilt by Nonie Rider [4]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: BDSM, Boys in Chains, Dark, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 14:02:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3449807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chains_archivist/pseuds/chains_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>by Nonie Rider</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hilt IV

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dusk, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Boys in Chains](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Boys_in_Chains), which opened in 2000 as a multifandom archive for both fiction and art, but then sadly went offline in 2005. To bring the archive back, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2014. Open Doors [posted an announcement](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/1832) and e-mailed all creators about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please [contact the Open Doors committee](http://transformativeworks.org/contact/open%20doors).

Scully had never been so grateful for the bulk of Skinner behind her. Gun out, she knocked at the door. "Mulder, it's me," she said, and heard someone moving inside, and then the click of the lock. 

"Scully," Mulder said as he started to open the door, and then his eyes widened as he saw her fully. 

"Federal agent," she said quietly. "I'm armed." Feeling the black armored vest stiff around her sides, she stepped into the room to clear Skinner's line of fire and looked for Krycek. 

Except for Mulder, the room was empty, but the bloody washcloth in one hand made it clear that he was not alone. Mulder was in a t-shirt and there was no sign of his gun, and Scully felt ice down her spine when she heard the muted click in the next room. 

Skinner didn't raise his voice, but he had always been able to make himself heard. "Krycek, we have this place surrounded. Don't bother with the window, and don't do anything stupid." 

"I think it's too late for that," said Mulder ruefully, and Scully's stomach twisted at the affection in his voice. "Stupid seems to be the order of the day." 

"So Agent Scully tells me." 

She didn't know whether to cover Mulder or move past him into the hall. Dear God, she'd never had to worry which side he was on before. 

Skinner was aimed at the inner doorway, but keeping Mulder clearly in his line of sight. "Krycek, get your sorry ass out here." 

Oh, Lord, it was Mulder's gun that slid around the edge of the doorway. But the gunbarrel scared her less than the cold dark eye behind it, and both were aimed at her. 

And then she couldn't see them because Mulder stepped into the way. 

Empty hands out, he blocked their line of sight and closed his eyes for a moment as if he were very tired. "Please," he said, and nothing more. 

She couldn't. Insane, unnatural, whatever this was, she couldn't fire at him. "Move, Mulder," she said in what started as an order but ended up a plea. "You know we've got to take him in." 

"I can't let you," he said quietly, even as Skinner stepped in and closed the door behind him. 

"Agent Mulder, you will move or I will have to move you." Skinner's voice too was almost gentle. Without exchanging any signal, she found herself shifting to the right as the AD stepped left so that Mulder could not face them both. 

"Sir-- Scully, no." 

"No," said a hoarse voice behind him, and Scully's heart froze as she saw that barrel shift. "I can't let you take me in. 

"If I'm lucky, they'll just kill me. If I'm not, they'll have some questions to ask first. Fuck, you guys have never kept anyone alive they wanted to kill, and I'd be a prime target." 

"Alex," Mulder said without moving, "You know I'll kill you if you shoot either of them." 

//Thank God he hasn't been turned,// Scully thought, but the pain in those hazel eyes wrenched at her. "Krycek, put the gun down." 

"I can't," Krycek said almost regretfully, and then Scully saw where he was now aiming. 

At himself. 

Not Mulder, even for a hostage. Not herself or Skinner, because Mulder told him not to. Himself. 

"Sir," she said, and drew her gun out of line even before she clicked the safety on. 

"Agent Scully?" 

"Sir, I think we should all put the guns away for a minute and just talk." 

"I think that's a very bad idea, Agent Scully." His aim did not waver. 

"Sir, there's too many people in the line of fire, and innocent neighbors behind those walls. Put up your gun for a minute and let's try to talk this through." And keeping her knees steady, she walked towards the inner doorway and held her hand out to Krycek for the gun. His hand was shaking now, and she was afraid the tremor alone would put them all at risk. 

"Alex," Mulder said quietly, and with something like a sob Krycek stepped out into the doorway and let his gun hand fall. 

To her surprise, she heard Skinner shift behind her and the sound of his safety going on. Then his hand moved again, and before she could panic she heard the hiss of his radio. "This is Skinner. The situation appears to be under control. Stand down and await further orders. I repeat, stand down." 

And she could breathe again. 

*** 

"Sir," said Mulder with quiet intensity, as Scully tended to the torn sutures down Krycek's cheek. "Sir, I can't let you take him in. I-- He came to me for help." 

Scully felt Krycek start, but Mulder just looked back at him and nodded. 

Mulder continued. "I mean-- Sir, I know you can bring a team in here and I can't stop you. But you'd have to arrest me too." 

"That would not be uncalled for," Skinner bit off. "Do you know how many laws you've broken? Not to mention Bureau regulations?" 

Mulder spread his hands helplessly. "There's my gun. I'll get you my badge in a minute." 

"No!" 

It took Scully a moment to realize that the objection came from Krycek. 

"Mulder, you can't. I'm not worth it. Fuck, Mulder, you *can't* stop now; you can't begin to know how badly you're needed." 

Skinner raised one eyebrow. "For what, Krycek? More of your plots and games?" 

"No! He's the only one who can-- Oh, hell." Krycek's voice went dead. "Look, Mulder, I can't tell you. I'm sorry. Not won't but can't. But a lot of lives depend on your doing your job, and there's nobody else who can. So forget me, and let's get this the fuck over with." 

"Sweet," Skinner ground out in a voice harsh enough to strip paint. "The martyred Saint Alex. So now we're supposed to forgive you and live happily ever after. I don't think so, boy." 

Taking a deep breath, Scully tried to focus on the practicalities and not let herself get drawn into the hostility around her. Having checked Krycek's jaw, she moved down to examine the pierced nipple. "You've got a mild infection here. Did they give you anything to use for it?" She was sure her blush was visible enough to light the room, but Krycek's own color was high and he only shook his head. "I've got my limits, Krycek. If you want this cleaned out, do it yourself." 

Then, straightening her shoulders, she looked around at the others. Someone had to drop the posing and get them all to talk sensibly. Maybe it was the testosterone. "All right, let me get this straight. Krycek, are you planning to turn informant? Are you willing to tell Mulder everything he needs to know?" 

Breath shuddered out of him in a long sigh. "I can't. I'm sorry." 

"Or just get out of the business and disappear?" 

His eyes met Mulder's desperately as if they were alone in the room. "No. I can't. There's things I need to do." 

"But surely you're not expecting Mulder to join you? Your--side, whatever that may be?" 

"No!" Krycek looked horrified. 

Scully nodded, relieved. "But that means we don't have a lot of choices here." 

"Agent Scully, I was not aware that there was any choice involved." Skinner's growl was dangerously soft. 

"Sir," she took a deep breath and turned to him, "why did you come along on this mission?" 

"Because you asked for my help, Agent Scully." But Mulder had caught her thought, and stared back at her with the beginning of hope. 

"Sir, I think you came in person and left the team outside because you thought this might require unusual--policies. Methods. Decisions." 

"State your point, Agent Scully." 

"I think you set this up so you could have choices, sir. And I'm asking you to think about this one. From--from what I saw here earlier, Mulder is not going to be able to function unless he can resolve certain... problems. And whatever you may think of his usual methods, sir, you know he's the best man you've got." 

Mulder was staring at her as if she were the one who'd gone insane. 

"So despite everything-- Despite all Krycek's done, if we can't arrest him without losing Mulder-- Well, sir, I'm not willing to pay that price." 

Now all three of them were staring at her. "Look," she said in exasperation, and then found she had nothing else to say. 

Skinner's jaw shifted and he shook his head. "Agent Scully, I think you've been around Mulder too long. The Bureau does not decide randomly which laws to enforce and which to set aside." 

"Then why did you come up here in person, sir?" 

And that massive hand came up and kneaded the bridge of his nose. "Because I've been around Mulder too long as well." 

*** 

Scully finished working on Krycek's injuries as Skinner talked on the radio. "Yes, it appears to have been a false alarm. No, Jenkins, I am not under duress--" His growl suggested that such a thing was impossible. "Yes, you can come up here to check it out personally if you insist," he shook his head reassuringly at Mulder, "But Agent Mulder's had a rough enough time with what appears to have been a highly ill-advised prank, and I suggest we leave him to watch television in peace. Yes, I'll be down in a minute. Skinner out." 

He looked at Krycek for a long moment. "I'm not going to bother with threats. If anything happens to Mulder--" 

"Take a number, Skinner," but Krycek's voice was more resigned than anything else. 

"Agent Mulder," and now that spearpoint gaze was directed at the huddled figure in the computer chair. "Your request for leave has just been approved, and I don't want to see you back on the job until you're fit for it. I know you feel the need to flout orders, but this is not negotiable: you need to get help." 

"I know," and Scully hurt to hear how tired her partner sounded. "I just-- " 

"Agent Mulder, that's an order." 

Again, Scully knew someone had to break off this male head-butting and keep things sensible. "Mulder, I can call around to some friends tomorrow and find a good confidential therapist. And--" she tried to keep her voice level, "maybe a good couples counselor." 

Skinner's face was stone. "I think the last might be a bit rough on the counselor, Agent Scully. A personal therapist is obligatory, but I think as a--couple--they need less orthodox methods." 

"Sir?" Mulder sounded utterly bewildered, and so was she. 

"I understand that there are ... responsible practitioners of sexual deviance in this town, including ritualized violence, Agent Mulder. I strongly suggest that the two of you find someone to teach you some level of self-restraint." 

*** 

Mulder finally stopped staring at the door long after the footsteps had faded. Turning, he saw Alex looking equally stunned. 

He opened his mouth and closed it again. Shook his head. Tried to laugh. 

And finally gave up. "Beer? I think MonsterVision's on." 

*** 

But neither the wry drawl of Joe-Bob Briggs nor the scanty fur bikini of a cavewoman being pursued by a rubber dinosaur could keep his attention when he was so constantly aware of Krycek's presence that he even found himself breathing in the same rhythm. 

Krycek seemed both aware of him in turn, his body shifting when Mulder moved as if to track Mulder by radar, and yet so inturned he seemed almost blind. 

And he was angry. Mulder, whose own rage was quiet for the moment, nonetheless found himself tensing up as Krycek's muscles tensed, his own jaw aching when Krycek's clenched. Then, without warning, Krycek flung his beer bottle across the room to smash against the wall. "Ebat'--" he almost spat. "*Bless you, my children; go find yourselves a matched pair of whips.* What the fuck business is it of his?" 

"Christ, Krycek, would you rather he'd shot you?" 

Krycek launched himself upright and stalked over to scowl at the broken glass. "Son of a bitch thinks he's got a right to *approve* me. Us. This from the asshole who handcuffed me to his balcony." 

Mulder laughed. "Hey, it could have been worse; he could have recommended some "practitioner of sexual deviance" that he knew personally." 

"Whatever." Krycek was not amused. He dropped to sit on his heels and poke at the foamy shards. "He's not my fucking father, all right?" His voice was tight. 

And then Mulder saw the large piece of brown glass in his hand, the speculative focus with which Krycek brushed it against one thigh and left a thin line of parted denim slowly darkening where it had been. 

"Shit!" And Mulder grabbed him by the collar and yanked him to his feet, startling him so that he dropped the sharp fragment back on the carpet. "Alex, *stop* that!" 

"And you're not my fucking father either, okay? Christ--" 

Feeling something dark well up in him, Mulder shoved him sprawling back onto the couch. "No, I'm not your father, asshole. And you're not mine. But I bet they had too fucking much in common." 

Krycek stared back at him, and lost what little color he had. "Shit. *Fuck* this! I'm out of here." 

"What?" 

"Let me out of here, fucker! I don't have to-- I can't-- You--" 

Mulder stood over him. "I'm not stopping you. Leave." But he made no move to give Krycek even room to stand. "Who were you calling a coward, Krycek?" 

"What the fuck are you talking about?" 

Mulder heard himself snort. "You want me to talk. You want me to fuck you and fuck you over. But you? Oh, no, *you* aren't going to talk, or act, or think about anything. That why you wanted me, Krycek? So you don't have to do anything? I don't *want* a dog, asshole." 

And Krycek drove upwards to his feet, rocking Mulder back with the force of it. "Is that what you think I want? Is that what you think I *am*?" There was no room between them; Mulder felt the heat of his breath, the taut frame shaking against him. 

Mulder blocked the swing that would probably have broken his jaw, and catching Krycek by the wrist and the back of the neck, he held him pinned for a moment. "I think you're a liar--" He pulled Krycek's head closer. "A traitor--" Those jungle eyes clenched shut. "A murderer--" He brushed his lips against the tattered mouth beneath his. "And a coward as afraid as I am of lo-- of lo--" Kissing those soft eyelids, those velvet lashes, he tasted the salt they could not hide. 

He didn't know he was crying himself until he felt the sting, and then Alex's mouth opened against his jaw and moved blindly up to drink his tears in turn. And they were holding each other so tightly it was another kind of pain, and sobs racked them like passion. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he tried to say into the mouth that was saying the same thing to him, lips and tongue a word together, a mirror, the heart's braille. 

And it hurt, O God it hurt, knife-edge of grief and loss cutting them both like a blade lancing a wound. Mulder tried to comfort the lean, shaking body in his arms even as he clung desperately for comfort of his own. "I'm so sorry--" but now the mouth on his was speaking other words, words he was too afraid to hear, to say. Words his whole body was saying despite himself. 

So brave, this fragile creature he held. So brave. So honest, body and mind, even through the pain. So faithful once he knew his heart. And offering Mulder both his life and Mulder's own. O God, so brave-- 

I love you too, Mulder said soundlessly into that mouth, giving him back truth for truth. But words were not enough, so he put all his love and awe into a kiss and told him that way. Gently, careful of the bruised lips. This was too strong for force. No more apologies; they were an insult to this man who had welcomed his hate and endured it with utmost courage as an act of love. 

"Love," Mulder said out loud and kissed him again. "I love you. I need you. Don't ever leave me, Alex. Oh, I love you." And when he was answered with Russian, he knew it was an honor, an act of grace beyond anything he could earn. 

The rage, the darkness, were still waiting. He could feel them in himself and in the taut frame in his arms. But if this lay at the heart of it, somehow they would find a way home.


End file.
